Social interactions, much less those of a romantic nature are...rare for the boy, his mind so new to such discoveries, so much of his personality shaped entirely by so many years spent alone that the delicate interplay of interactions are difficult for him to perceive- much less capable of defining by his own animalistic, instinctive understanding. Her desire to have him explain his own assumptions is a frustrating thing and yet it is not with her this frustration occurs, more so it is directed entirely towards himself and his own inability to perceive entirely what is being asked of him. He is used to being alone, used to fending for himself and being only with his own company- perhaps the reason he has taken to talking to himself so very often, as if merely seeking a voice to answer. He had fallen willingly into the role of pack once more, for pack is known and understood and yet the manner of relationships beyond friendship and pack is not, his understanding is basal and yet not entirely incorrect as he offers her his own explanation of such things- the nervous manner in which she responds seeing his own youthful features frown before he proceeds to mimic her, fingers knotting one over the other as she speaks, though truly he hardly understands why her tone holds a fearful seeming note that the predator within himself so readily seizes upon.

Her words, it would seem, resulting a momentary blank look, one that is quickly punctuated by a sudden shake of his head, his mind having seized upon a single phrase within her small speech as his fingers cease to knot, arms folding suddenly and yet determinedly over his chest, those fathomless dark pools meeting those of his girlfriend now.

"We cannot....play the...sex game- not ever."

That this is perhaps a rather shocking thing to admit in any relationship has apparently not occurred to the boy, nor that Birdie, may one day desire such things from him. He has, for some weeks now, readily chosen to ignore his own desire for any sort of....satisfaction in that regard, the constant availability of ring fights having absorbed much of his loose energy in the wake of no longer performing such things with Nadya. It is Tetradore's anger as this previous interaction however, that sees the boys refusal now, having come to understand that it is the action, as opposed to the person with whom it was done, that has so upset his Alpha so many weeks spent being ignored by his companion- along with several more in which the boy had been allowed only table scraps having instilled within him a severe lesson in this regard. The sex game.....was simply not allowed. Not ever and not with any one. In his anger, Tetradore, had perhaps, unknowingly, robbed the deviant of the only truly meaningful thing he had ever had- Tetradore himself and as such his desire to never again be so outcast by his own leader has resulted in a near fear of any form of affection that may very well lead to such a thing, despite what instinct desires from himself and any inclination he may have to be closer to the curly haired woman beyond the small touches he will permit- this fear is simply to great.

"Tetra....says no."

It is fortunate perhaps, that the small kiss she offers him is accepted easily, softly returned as instinct demands before he pulls away and the topic changes to the matter of fighting, his own head tilted slightly once more as lashings of dark hair fall upon his face and into his eyes, the silver-hued chain at his own neck capturing the light as he does, the woman seeming nervous once more, his own inability to speak perhaps having allowed for a more advanced method of...understanding that which is not said, the woman's discomfort palpable as one hand reaches forward once more to grasp her own, stopping the nervous folding of her fingers.

"I do not...like that."

He cannot understand the reason behind her feelings and as such declares it is wholly un-liked and thusly not allowed- so unaware that emotions simply cannot be ordered or commanded so readily, head tilted once more at those softly whispered words as he simply shrugs.

"If...Birdie is...feral then...maybe we....win more- but, do not have to play if.....Birdie...not want to. Birdie can...watch and do this."

His hands merely proceed to clap together several times in imitation of the applause he has seen, evidently having no true understanding of the gesture, merely having come to believe that it is something to be done, suggesting as much to the woman now as he grins.

"and Birdie...can say to....all others....that....Tobi is....the most best at fighting. I think...maybe I am better....then Tetra but.....we do not...say this or....he will be angry."

madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push